


Beer Goggle Love

by seatbeltdrivein



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-04
Updated: 2010-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seatbeltdrivein/pseuds/seatbeltdrivein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James, Albus, and the elephant in the room. [Written for eloquent_toast during the 2010 round of hp_cestfest]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beer Goggle Love

They could only look each other in the eyes when they were _fucking_ , and they could only fuck when they'd gotten themselves so fucked up that the walls spun a million different colors into some split dimension that rested at their fingertips. It was a problem, James thought, but not one worth fixing. Albus disagreed, but he knew better than to open his mouth, 'cause opening his mouth only ever got him in trouble.

"Aren't you ever going home?" Albus cast another cooling charm, sweat slipping down his forehead. James didn't even answer, just huffed and rolled around on the floor of his balcony.

"If you had to live in a muggle flat," he said at last, "couldn't you have at least gotten one with air conditioning? I have swamp ass, and I'm fucking _inside_ your fucking flat!"

"Nice. And you're not, you know. You're on the balcony."

"The door's open. It counts." James rolled himself off the cement floor, knees creaking. Albus would've made a crack about him being an old man, but then he'd be opening his mouth.

"Bastard," he muttered instead.

"Huh?"

"Lunch." Albus turned away and cocked his head toward the tiny room that was half kitchen and half sitting room. "You want anything?"

"Let's go out. You haven't got shit for food in here."

And he didn't. Albus managed to find a jar of organic peanut butter and a rotting apple in the back of his refrigerator before James forced him bodily from the flat.

He still didn't have a good sense of where he was in the muggle world—James didn't have a good sense of direction _anywhere_ —so the late afternoon found them wandering, too little space between them as they walked unhurriedly. An old woman shoved her way between them, casting backwards a peevish glance, as she waddled into a store not twenty paces ahead, her round end disappearing from sight a heartbeat before James burst into laughter.

"Muggles," he laughed. He enjoyed the counter culture, like their grandfather had. He even had Grandpa Arthur's spark plug collection.

"I'm starving," Al said. It was too hot, and his clothes stuck unpleasantly to his body. "Fuck, we've been out here forever, and we've not stopped once? That's it, you've lost the right to chose."

"Mutiny!" James cried, knocking their shoulders together. "Well, all right. I didn't know where the hell I was going anyway."

What a shock, Albus thought. "There's a pub," he suggested. The temperature fell. "Or we could just go to that deli," he said hurriedly. The deli was safe, not a drop of liquor in sight.

James watched him for a long moment. "No," he said finally. "Let's go to the pub." And _fuck_ , that wasn't what he was supposed to be saying. _You're breaking the rules!_ Albus' mind was wrought with indignation. _That's not what you're supposed to say!_

Something like 'no, that's a bad idea,' or even just a 'no,' would have worked. James pushed things too hard, right until they broke. Albus made it a point to watch the space between them as they walked in, James two steps ahead. When they sat down in one of the corner booths, James' thigh pressed too close to Albus'. Lunch was the farthest thing from his mind. There wasn't any polite, discrete way of scooting so they weren't touching, so he told himself to grin and bear it, slamming back the first shot James ordered him before his mind started turning loudly enough that his brother could hear it and pick him apart. Just another thing better left unsaid.

"In the mood?" James' grin was wicked. "That didn't take long."

"Fuck off," Albus said. He knew James wasn't talking about anything unseemly, but still—who the fuck was he to say that? _Who the fuck was he?_

The bar, a dank little hole in the wall of the piss poor town Albus lived in, smelled all right as far as pubs went, but Albus was still wary. His feet stuck to the ground, and every time he picked them up, bending his knees so they lifted just so, the soles of his trainers pulled up with an audible suction noise. Beer dried on the ground, and Merlin only knew what else.

James' hand played on his knee, and Albus suddenly had a good idea as far as things Merlin only knew.

"Stop," he said, his hand on James'. His brother gave him a blank look.

"What?" _Are you sure_ , his face was asking. _Is that what you really want?_

Albus took another shot, another, another. He could _want_ it all he wanted, but his hand kept steady, holding James' in place. Sucking back another, the world shifted, and James smiled in the glow.

The table was littered with glasses, time passing fluidly, to and fro, between and around. They had been there days, hours, seconds. Years. James took his hand, and they stumbled together, feet sticking to the ground, colors swirling around them.

"Muggles," James was saying again, same laughing tone. The bathroom was open and they walked right in. James had his wand, but he didn't even take it out, and Albus knew he should but couldn't remember _why_.

He slumped back against the wall and closed his eyes. James stumbled into him, balance a mere dream of sobriety, and attached himself to Albus' neck, pressing love into sweaty, flushed skin.

"Feels good." Albus ran a hand through James' hair and didn't think of their (shared) father. "Mn, that's nice…" Teeth sliding against his skin, James' hand cupping his cock through his trousers. Reciprocation, he remembered, stroking his brother's coarse hair while he braced his back against the wall and tugged at James' zipper with his free hand. It didn't want to give, and James was growling in his ear, pushing his hips into Albus' hand so hard that it was trapped between their groins, James' hand right along with it. Their fingers intertwined briefly, then a surge of magic crackled in the air and James' trousers were _gone_.

There wasn't even a hint of surprise in their movements, though, and Albus pushed his hand into James' pants and felt his cock, hard, the tip already slick and dribbling. "Grab it already, you fucking idiot, can't you just _grab it_ ," James hissed into his ear, and Albus' hand responded of its own accord, circling it, squeezing, stopping. James let out a sharp breath, his voice dropping to a low pitch. "Want to—" He grunted, thrusting into Albus' hand, head falling onto his younger brother's shoulder. "Want to come on your face…" He kept right on talking, sending a thrill of want sinking to Albus' cock. He closed his eyes. "Been thinking about it forever," James continued, hips pushing on. "Back in Hogwarts—" Albus groaned, his cock pulsing, rubbing into the harsh material of his jeans. "—used to think about coming on you while you slept—" And wasn't that just fucked! Albus stopped his fist, swallowing James' whine, and shoved his brother back.

"What the fuck—"

"Fuck me." The words came too fast. "Fuck you!" Albus stumbled to the sink, grabbing onto the porcelain, one hand jerking his trousers down. "Fuck you, and _fuck me_!"

James stood against the wall, hair mussed, trousers gone to Merlin knew where, and stared. He took his fucking time, Albus thought blearily, took too much of it. He stepped out of his trousers, his pants, kicked them away and stood with his feet spread as far apart as he could manage without falling over. James didn't stay still for much longer.

"This _is_ what you want." James kissed his shoulder, down his back. The squeak of the soap dispenser and cool hands sliding between his cheeks, fingers pressing inside him. Albus shifted, whined. He drew up on his toes, and James fucked him on his fingers, hard, too many at once. Albus loved every second of it, his cheek pressed against the sink while he tried to remember how to breathe.

James didn't bother giving him a minute to recover. He was empty for a second, maybe a few more, and then the blunt tip of his brother's cock was pushing into his arse. The fill felt good, and Albus closed his eyes and felt himself spread wide open.

"You always feel so good." James' voice was rough, breaking. He gave a few short thrusts, barely pulling out, and just when Albus had worked up the nerve to tell him to get on with it, James pulled out until the head felt like it was completely out and slammed back in, hips jerking and dick pulsing. Heaven was there, and Albus' mouth was _open_. He was screaming, praying even, and James was fucking him so hard that some tiny part of him thought he'd be split right open, right in half, and some poor bastard would have to clean up the bits left—

One, two, and James' face was buried in his back, teeth digging into the skin, dick pulsing and coming in an endless flood of warmth. Albus felt outside of himself, and when James started breathing again, reaching a hand around to tug Albus off, it wasn't even a full pull before he was blowing his load all over the bathroom floor. They panted, hearts hammering, James still so deep inside Albus that it felt like they were the same person.

"You love it," James slurred. _I love you_.

Albus wiggled his hips until James' cock fell out with a wet slap and stood up. "Drink," he said, "little more." They stumbled back into the pub together, taking shot after shot after shot, and the world spun away until they were the only ones left.

*

Albus woke up, head pounding, with James' back to him. His throat stuck, unbearably dry. "James?" he croaked. His brother stirred but remained in place. The bed felt disgusting, the heavy comforter far too much covering in the sweltering heat of a summer day. "You thirsty?" he tried again, sitting up and willing the room to stop spinning.

"Water," James grumbled. "And get a fucking cooling charm, will you? Fucking _ridiculous_." He rolled over and Albus looked at the floor.

 _Morning after_ , he thought to himself. _Can't even look the bastard in the eyes._


End file.
